He walked with light in hand
Yet plunged in deep darkness
The road was smooth and clear
He didn't see treacherous ditches
In which he fell unknowingly
The air was calm and quiet
Yet he was in the grip of turbulence
His ideas became bright butterflies
Of liberty and freedom
Yet cruel meshes followed to curb them
and crush his soul in one fell swoop
His human yearnings became devotees' call
to heavens,
The rivers' rush
The breezes' scent
And sky's luminous expanse- - -
He didn't ever see the deceptions of life
And the shortness of it.
- - - - -Sharad Rajimwale
Jodhpur, India
28-07-2014
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem